A poem for Bridget
The last of this year's roses
Are falling to the floor
Like your love they're lost
With no hope for what there was before
This wind that scatters the petals
Is calling from my heart
Whispers: longing for the moment
To restore love from the start
If we had all this time
Chances for love to grow
Why then like discarded petals
Did you have to let go
The last of this year's roses
Are dead upon the ground
Their thorns a bitter memory
Of love that's lost & can't be found
some day
always
andy.x
.:.
